


like a samurai

by jackopancake



Category: Gintama
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Meetings, Foster Care, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 18:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11765505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackopancake/pseuds/jackopancake
Summary: Katsura Kotarou's first day in Shouyou's children shelter. It's there he meets Gintoki.





	like a samurai

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ginkitty](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginkitty/gifts).



> A commission for Caro! I hope you enjoy it! 900 words was too short for this idea. Maybe I'll expand on it later.

10-year-old Katsura Kotarou stood outside a new house while clutching a duck doll. The house looked… old. Really old. Edo old. In a way, it was kind of beat down. Which, if he thought about it, was a perfect place to lock kids away forever. It was a decent sized building; like if it had been an old samurai family house.

The caseworkers were talking to a blond man in a ponytail about his situation. Orphaned, but his grandma took care of him until she passed away herself. His grandma begged for him to not go to a child institution, but there wasn’t much choice with that. There just weren’t enough foster parents.

There was one place, a smaller place, ran by a man named Yoshida Shouyou. What was weird about this place was that he would only take a maximum of 20 children. There was an opening today, lucky Kotarou.

While Shouyou and the caseworkers are speaking, Katsura was tapped on the shoulder. He turned a bit to notice a boy around his age with sloppy silver hair. “Oi, you new?”

“...Yeah.”

“You seem pretty small. I’m Gintoki.” The boy picked his nose. What kind of manners were taught at this place? Katsura grew a little wary. He puffed up, even. Was this place full of older children who bully the younger ones like the other places? Or cramped conditions? Or strict rules?

“I’m tough. I can take it.”

“The kid that left couldn’t take it,” Gintoki drawled nonchalantly, causing Katsura to freeze up. He then laughed and waved off the other boy’s fear. “I’m joking, he ‘aged out’ as they say. What’s your name?”

Katsura didn’t say. At that point, the caseworkers guided him forward. “Katsura-kun, this is Shouyou. He’ll be your guardian for now.”

Shouyou waved. Katsura pursed out his lips, his stuff dumped on the ground behind him. The caseworkers drove off as if they had better, more important things to do at the moment. “Come inside, Gintoki, and bring his bags. Want a snack?” the man asks.

“Yes, please.”

When he stepped inside, he was taken aback. It was warmly decorated. The inside felt just as old as the outside, and on the wall hung picture frames of all the children in the home. He saw Gintoki, and an empty frame - would he go there?

The dining area was busy. There were a bunch of children there chattering with each other, eating snacks. Others sat further away doing homework. This felt nothing like the previous institution he had been in (though temporary at best). Shouyou handed him a couple of packaged store-bought cookies before wandering off. 

Gintoki pulled Katsura into a sudden side-hug, a smug look on his face. “You gonna eat those?”

Katsura stared at the boy before giving him a slight glare and shoving him off. “Yes, I am. Why, does he starve us or something?”

“Nah, I just like picking on the new kids. So, you’re… Katsura Kotarou, then? Too long. I don’t like it. I’ll think of a nickname for you.” Gintoki laughed. “The kid who ‘aged out’ or whatever slept in my room, so you’re staying with Small-ass, Creepy Eyes, and I.”

Oh. Were those the kinds of nicknames he gave out? Scary. What was he gonna get? Ponytail Boy? “Who are they?”

“Small-ass is Takasugi Shinsuke. Creepy Eyes is this girl who only goes by Nobume. Shinsuke’s just as wild as me, and Nobume likes to carry a knife around, so you’re going to have a great time here!” 

That evening, after dinner - which was chicken udon, nothing fancy - Katsura set up his bed. The rooms were separated by four curtains with a bed in each corner. He watched as Takasugi and Gintoki jumped around the curtains for a bit, playing tag of some sort. Sometimes, when the curtain drifted, he saw the girl. No knife, though. He set his duck doll in the corner.

He curled up under his blankets.

“...Hey. You scared or something?”

Katsura peeked up and noticed Gintoki, who climbed on the bed next to him. Takasugi disappeared in the curtains. “Listen. If you’re scared, the older kids will definitely boss you around, but Shouyou-sensei doesn’t like it when we beat each other up. So act as tough as you say you are.”

“I’m not scared.”

“You don’t like to talk about your feelings, do you? Your eyes look scared.” Gintoki pats Katsura’s head before tugging his hair out of the ponytail. “Listen, we like to play this game, Small-ass and I. We pretend to be samurai and we fight with the curtain rods. But we don’t have a leader.”

“I don’t know…”

“You’re a stubborn ass.” Gintoki hit his fist against Katsura’s forehead like he’s knocking on a door. “Hello? Any brain in there? C’mon. I even thought of a nickname for you. Zura.”

“...Zura?”

Gintoki nodded, pleased with himself. “As in wig. Because of your hair and all. You keep it long, like a samurai’s. Which is why you should be the leader. But that means you gotta keep track of our matches.”

Katsura smiled. “I’m good at math.” Silence fell between them for several seconds. “...Hey, Gintoki?”

The other boy tilted his head a bit. 

“I just want to say… Thank you. I think I was scared, but I’m not anymore.” He took Gintoki’s hand into his own. “Promise me you’ll keep helping me feel less scared.”

Gintoki laughed. “Fine, fine, Zura.”

“It’s not Zura, it’s Katsura.”


End file.
